Unbound
by NightOwlWrites
Summary: Jenny is happy to help Abbie in any way that she can, but what does her sister's role as a "Witness" mean for her? Why should they save a world that never cared for them?
1. Chapter 1: Towards the Light

**A/N:** There's a lot of interesting Black (read: American) history that happened during the Revolutionary War that the show hasn't explored yet. This story popped into my head and wouldn't let go right after Sanctuary (episode: 1x09) aired.

* * *

Jenny knew she was in danger. She expected to find herself sprawled on the side of the road, bleeding and choking on gasoline fumes, but had awoken face-down in a patch of cool grass instead.

She rose to her feet and took cover behind a large tree to survey her surroundings. It was dark and the woods were silent. Patches of fog hung motionless in the air. Shadows flickered through the trees along the far edges of the forest, and while Jenny was certain she was alone, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.

"Don't get scared." she whispered. It was silly considering her circumstances, but uttering that phrase had become a habit in sticky situations, allowing her to acknowledge and contain her fear. "Where am I?"

This couldn't be Hell. She wasn't back in her old cell at Tarrytown Psychiatric, so she quickly concluded that this must be Purgatory. Heaven didn't make her shortlist. "Yeah right Mills," she laughed when she realized the omission, "you weren't going there anyway."

The sound of rustling leaves broke the silence. Something was out there, and heading her way. Jenny held her breath and leaned to her right, looking for a route that would lead her safely out of the woods. The fog shifted, and a clearing became visible through the mist. A replica of Trinity Church stood in the center of the field.

Jenny leapt from her hiding spot and broke into a run, heading towards the church. She prayed that this was the same place Abbie and Crane had mentioned back in the archives, and that she hadn't missed them on their quest to free Katrina.

Their quest. Occupying any type of shared space with the Witnesses could, at times, make Jenny envious of the intense bond the pair had formed so quickly. Abbie was her sister. While she was happy to mend their relationship, she couldn't help but wonder what her role would be in the years to come.

On the other hand, watching Crane and Abbie deny their obvious feelings for each other was a free source of entertainment. She'd caught them standing a little too close together while researching some apocalyptic horror too often to simply be a coincidence. "Nothing going on between them my ass," Jenny said, smirking as she continued through the forest.

The fog broke as she approached the treeline surrounding the clearing. Crossing the open field would be the most dangerous part of her journey, so she dove behind a fallen tree and took a moment to determine the shortest route to the church. The eery silence was the only sound she heard above her own breath. Whatever it was that had been following her must have given up, but she didn't want to stick around to find out. "It's now, or never Mills," she said to herself, with one last look back through the woods.

She lept over the tree and broke into a run, hoping to cross the clearing as quickly as possible. The church's entrance became visible after a few feet. As she drew closer Jenny became confident that she'd find Abbie, and together they'd find their way back home. She picked up her speed—and ran straight into Moloch.

The force of the impact tossed Jenny backwards by several feet, knocking the air from her lungs. Her disorientation was replaced by terror as Moloch moved to stand over her.

"Jennifer Mills," he said, as if greeting an old friend. His disembodied voice seemed to be everywhere, bouncing off the trees and echoing through her skull. "You have failed to protect the Witnesses and now you will serve me in the apocalypse."

Moloch stretched a taloned hand towards Jenny's throat.

Fear shifted into anger at Moloch's declaration. She had not survived parental neglect, foster care, and the long separation from Abbie to be taken down by a cheap trick from a demon who preyed on children.

"No," she screamed, raising her arms to shield her face. A burst of energy erupted from her hands and radiated outward. The surrounding air rippled in waves that engulfed Moloch, tossing him back towards the forest.

Jenny stood and stared at her hands. The tight control she had managed to maintain since awakening in Purgatory had come undone, leaving her frozen in the middle of the field.

Moloch screamed in anger. Adrenaline flooded Jenny's system and cleared her haze of confusion. She forced her body back into motion, ignoring the ache in her legs and the burning in her chest as she stumbled towards the church.

Moloch had recovered, however, and was closing in on her fast. She was preparing to turn and fight when a light appeared in the center of the field. As she drew closer Jenny saw it was actually a lantern, held by a young black woman in a delicate cream and white gown.

The woman beckoned to Jenny with her hand. "This way," she said, and veered off to the right, away from the church.

"Who are you?" Jenny asked, immediately altering course to follow. She wasn't sure how, but this woman was vaguely familiar, and Jenny knew that she was safe in her presence.

"Hurry child. We don't have much time."

"Wait! Who are you? I have to find my sister," Jenny panted, struggling to keep up.

"Quickly, Jennifer! Abigail is waiting for you."

"How do you know my name? How do you know Abbie?"

The woman stopped abruptly and turned around. She placed a hand on Jenny's cheek. "Your questions will be answered in due time, but first I must get you to your sister."

The moment was broken and the woman turned to continue their journey. Curiosity, and the desire to put as much distance between herself and Moloch, overruled Jenny's natural inclination to defy authority, and she followed withoutcomplaint.

They continued moving at a hurried pace, eventually reaching the clearing's other edge and headed back into the forest. This patch of woods was filled with lost souls seeking salvation. Their grotesque forms and pleas for redemption unnerved Jenny, and she hoped Abbie and Crane hadn't succumbed to any of Purgatory's temptations.

Crane...the mystery woman said that she needed to get Jenny to her sister. She hadn't mentioned Abbie's time traveling companion.

"Hey," Jenny said, "is Abbie here alone? She came with the other Witness to free his wife—"

The rest of the sentence died in Jenny's throat as she came to an abrupt halt. Directly in front of her stood the old dollhouse she and Abbie had played with as children, reclaimed from the dumpster behind their home one day after school.

At nine years old, Abbie had been Jenny's sole caregiver for over a year. She was well beyond playing with toys but spent hours with Jenny behind the locked door of their room, scrubbing the dollhouse spotless before declaring it suitable for their hand-me-down Barbies.

Years later, Jenny realized that it was the best way Abbie could keep her occupied as their father descended into alcoholism and their mother was consumed by mental illness.

"Is this some sort of sick joke?" Jenny asked, her anger returning.

"Language, Jennifer!" the woman scolded, "the answers you seek begin here, inside this house"

"I thought you said you were taking me to Abbie. What the hell is going on?"

Jenny's patience had reached its limits. She wanted to find Abbie and Crane and leave this place as quickly as possible.

"This house is here because you created it as a sanctuary after your first encounter with Moloch."

"What?" Jenny gaped, shock and disbelief causing her eyebrows to shoot into her hairline.

The woman merely smiled and took Jenny's hand. "Come inside, and you will find the answers to the questions that you seek."


	2. Chapter 2: Little Sister

Abbie paced the length of the dollhouse living room after repeatedly failing to convince her teenage memory that she needed to find a way home. About an hour ago-Abbie wasn't sure how time worked in Purgatory-she switched tactics, and joined the girls' tea party. They chatted over plastic slices of cake and make-believe tea, but the teenagers would shut down whenever Abbie questioned them about leaving Purgatory. She had forgotten that by this point in their young lives, she and Jenny had spent several years in foster care, and were experts at dodging questions from adults.

Their tea party ended as abruptly as it began, however, when teen Jenny started teasing her sister about her friendship with Andy Brooks. The argument quickly escalated, and almost ended in a fist fight after teen Jenny leaned over the table and called teen Abbie "Easy A" in the soft, sweet voice she liked to use before knocking out her opponents.

It was a low blow. 'Easy A' was an ugly nickname the local mean girls had spread around school out of jealousy and boredom. Even adult Abbie had to take a moment to collect herself, both shocked by the pain she felt at hearing that name again, and impressed by teen Jenny's ability to deftly cut someone to the bone with just a few words, a skill Abbie knew she'd go on to perfect as an adult.

She separated the girls and sent them to different corners of the dollhouse. Teen Jenny was sulking in the kitchen, shooting dirty looks at teen Abbie, who was still sitting at the table fuming over their argument.

Abbie sighed and moved to the window. She couldn't see anything beyond the fog that had gathered outside and turned back to face her teenaged companions. As she she scanned the room her eyes fell on teen Jenny. A pained expression crossed her face as she watched the memory of her little sister.

Jenny was always a handful, even as a small child. She had inherited her high-spirited nature and quick wit from their father. Abbie could remember happier times, when Jenny was his constant companion, glued to his side from the moment she woke up until she was forced to go to bed. That all changed when he started drinking.

Abbie had tried to shield her little sister from the chaos at home, but Jenny was bright and intuitive, 'too smart for her own good,' as their mother used to say, and knew that something was very wrong with her family.

Each morning, Abbie would check to make sure Jenny's socks matched, her hair was combed, and that she'd brushed her teeth—teachers and neighbors might start asking questions otherwise—before leaving the relative safety of their locked room and heading off to school.

One cold, grey day in January they came downstairs to find their mother sitting at the kitchen table and their father missing from his usual spot on the sofa.

"Where's Daddy?" Jenny had asked, turning to Abbie for the answer.

"He's gone," their mother responded. Both girls turned to face her, shocked to catch her in an increasingly rare lucid moment.

Abbie had expected Jenny to cry or to ask their mother what had happened to him, but she never did and rarely spoke of him to this day.

"She always does that." Abbie's teenaged memory said, bringing her out of her thoughts and back to the present.

"Does what?" Abbie asked.

"Ruins things," her teenage self pouted, "she never listens to me."

Abbie sat next to her memory, hoping to build trust and get the girl to give her the information she needed to leave Purgatory. "What if I told you that you'll be happy to have her in your life someday?"

"Then you'd be lying!" teen Abbie said as she stood up and stormed out of the room.

Abbie sighed and put her head in her hands. Her body shook as tears welled in her eyes. She thought of Jenny, of how she questioned the sanity of their plan to enter Purgatory. Abbie had insisted that it was time for her to stop running from Moloch and get some answers, for both of them. She'd promised Jenny that she would return, and that she wouldn't leave her again. But with nothing to show for her troubles, and no foreseeable way back home, fear and doubt began to settle in her heart.

Moloch's prophecy had come true—a witness had surrendered another witness—and now she was trapped in purgatory.

"I should have listened to Jenny," Abbie whispered to herself.


	3. Chapter 3: Come and See

Sudden movement by the front door caught Abbie's attention. She reached for her gun and swore when she remembered she hadn't brought her weapon with her. Both girls leaped from their respective corners and ran to stand behind her. Abbie noted their faces were set in excitement, not fear, and concluded that this strange occurrence might be good news. Perhaps Ichabod was coming back for her as promised.

A portal appeared in the middle of the wide purple door and a woman in a long white dress stepped through with Jenny following close behind.

"Miss Grace!" the girls shouted in unison, pushing forward to hug the woman in white.

Abbie was stunned. Grace Dixon stood before her and smiled as she hugged each teenager.

Jenny looked around, confusion etched into her features, before meeting Abbie's gaze.

"Abbie—"

"Jenny—"

"What are you doing here?" both adult sisters asked in unison as Grace ushered their respective teenage memories towards the kitchen to give them some privacy.

Abbie hurried over to her sister and pulled her into a hug. "What happened?"

Jenny filled her in on all that she had discovered on Corbin's tapes, Henry Parrish, and her run-in with Headless. A dull, ringing sound filled Abbie's head as she pieced together how Jenny ended up in purgatory.

"Am I dead?" Jenny asked, reaching the same conclusion as Abbie.

Abbie shook her head. "No...no I won't let you pay the price for my mistake—"

"This isn't about you, Abbie. For fuck's sake...you and Crane deserve each other!"

"Jenny—"

"Where is Crane anyway?" Jenny demanded as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her expression grew darker by the second as she waited for an answer.

Abbie drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she turned away from Jenny to look out of the living room window. "A soul for a soul."

"What—"

"Katrina said her soul couldn't leave Purgatory without another taking its place."

"He left you here?" Jenny gasped. The lighting in the dollhouse dimmed as her anger intensified.

"Jenny, it wasn't like that...I chose to stay—"

"So you just threw your life away, like you have nothing and no one to live for, so Crane and his wife could live happily ever after?"

The doubt that had been lurking around the edges of Abbie's mind crept forward. She wasn't certain of anything anymore, but she was tired of Jenny's attitude, and they were wasting time.

He's lucky that I'm dead," Jenny continued, interrupting Abbie's thoughts. "I can't kick his ass but at least I'll be able to haunt him for the rest of his unnatural life." The room brightened as Jenny chuckled at her own joke.

"Look," Abbie said, "I told you that I wanted to get some answers. It was my choice to stay-"

"Oh, that's it...go ahead and protect your precious Ichaboo—"

"Enough! We have very little time." Grace re-entered the room and silenced the sisters before their argument could escalate. Abbie noted that the lighting had returned to normal as soon as Jenny's tirade was interrupted. Jenny, on the other hand, continued to appear unaware of the changes her mood had on their environment.

"What do you mean we have very little time? Grace, what aren't you telling us?" Abbie asked.

"Wait...you know this woman?" Jenny asked as she shook her head. "The surprises just keep coming."

Abbie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. There was no other way to introduce the ghost of your ancestor than to get straight to the point. "Jenny, this is Grace Dixon, our great-great-great-great grandmother. She knew the Cranes during their time and delivered and cared for Jeremy as a baby."

Jenny opened her mouth to issue what Abbie could only assume was some snarky remark about the Cranes but quickly closed it, stunned into silence.

Grace stepped forward and turned towards Jenny, her face set in a gentle smile, but her tone implied the urgency of their situation. "We have met before Jennifer, but your memory of our first meeting has been locked away in this place since your first encounter with Moloch thirteen years ago."

"You were there...that day in the woods?" Abbie asked, sensing that she was finally going to get some answers.

"No," Grace replied. "You were held captive in Purgatory after you saw Moloch raise Jeremy from the earth. I was sent to help you escape then, and I am here to help you again." She turned and called teen Abbie and teen Jenny in from the kitchen. When the girls were standing before her she placed a hand on each of their shoulders and looked into their eyes. "Remember when I told you that you would be going home someday?" The girls nodded as looks of apprehension appeared on their faces. "It's time," Grace continued, nudging each girl towards her adult counterpart.

"But I'm dead...I can't go back," Jenny said.

Grace nudged teen Jenny forward. "Your life thus far has been difficult Jennifer, but it will not end today. There is so much more for you to learn, to experience." She looked at Abbie before turning back to Jenny. "Abigail and Mr. Crane will need you, and your talents, if they are to succeed."

Teen Abbie walked over to her older self, hand outstretched towards her forehead. As soon as her fingers made contact Abbie found herself transported back to 'that day' in the woods, the solar eclipse overhead and fear constricting her throat, making it impossible to scream. Her young mind was trying to process what she had just seen—Moloch, standing over a man that he had pulled up from the ground. Suddenly a woman's voice echoed through the forest, "Come and see," she said, her tone full of joy that jarred with everything that Abbie had witnessed.

Moloch looked up and charged towards Abbie. She had just enough time to push Jenny out of the way before he grabbed her. She heard Jenny scream and caught a glimpse of a woman with red hair standing among four white trees as her vision faded to black.


	4. Chapter 4: The Long Way Home

**A/N:** Posted at the end of the story

* * *

She was a kid again, walking through the woods with Abbie after school. They were supposed to come straight home and "stay out of trouble". It was her first day back to class after a suspension for fighting, and their new foster mother didn't like Abbie's friends.

"Fuck her," Abbie said as she trampled through the overgrown brush. "She needs to mind her own business...she's not our mother."

Jenny laughed as she followed Abbie, pointing out the solar eclipse she'd studied in class earlier that day.

"You're not supposed to look directly at the sun," Abbie said, turning to swat Jenny's hand down before moving ahead of her.

"But my eyes don't hurt," Jenny said, annoyed with Abbie for correcting her.

"That's because there's no pain receptors in your retinas. Do I have to teach you everything-"

Abbie stopped talking and threw her arm out in front of Jenny. They had wandered into a clearing and four white trees stood before them.

"Where did they come from?" Jenny asked as she held onto Abbie.

"Be quiet," Abbie hissed as she tried to push Jenny back up the trail.

Jenny felt Abbie freeze beside her as a monster appeared from behind the trees. It stretched its hands over the earth and a man came out of the ground, just as she'd remembered.

But there were other things in the vision that didn't make sense, memories that weren't there before. She knew the monster was called Moloch. He grabbed Abbie just after she'd pushed her out of the way. A woman with red hair stood behind him by the trees, laughing. She remembered chasing them through a portal trying to save her sister and falling to the ground after a flash of light blinded her sight.

Jenny scrambled to her feet, looking for the light's source, but found herself staring into the kind gaze of Grace Dixon instead. She shoved Abbie towards her and yelled, "Go. Run. Think of someplace safe. I will be with you soon."

Jenny took Abbie's hand and ran, unsure of where she was heading. Moloch screamed in anger, and she could hear Grace's voice above him, chanting in the same rhythmic fashion her mother used at the kitchen table on her darkest days.

"Where are we going?" Abbie cried, tears streaming down her face.

"Someplace safe," Jenny replied. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her sister cry; despite everything she'd just witnessed, Abbie's tears scared her the most. "Someplace safe," she repeated to herself, not knowing exactly what or where "safe" was in this dark forest. She readjusted her hold on Abbie's hand, gripping it tighter. "Someplace safe," she said again, sparing a backwards glance at Abbie.

"Jenny, look!" Abbie said, pointing ahead of her.

Jenny turned and saw a life-sized version of their old dollhouse standing in what had been an empty field. Its cheerful pink windows and purple roof contrasted with their grim surroundings, resulting in an overall air of creepiness Jenny would have never attributed to their old toy. But Abbie's childhood promise-that this is where they'd always be safe-propelled her forward. She pulled Abbie up the front steps and walked inside, locking the door behind her.

* * *

Jenny was trembling and gasping for air when she opened her walls of the dollhouse creaked and groaned around her as an earthquake shook the foundation, making it difficult to stand.

"Is she doing that?" Abbie asked between deep, calming breaths.

"Yes," Grace replied. She rushed over to Jenny and placed both hands on her shoulders, steadying her and encouraging her to breathe. "She never learned how to control her power."

"What?" Jenny asked as she looked wildly between her sister and Grace. "Abbie, who was that woman by the trees?"

"Katrina Crane," Abbie whispered, "we have to get out of here-"

The tremors became erratic as Jenny's mind tried to process her re-integrated memories. She allowed Grace to pull her into a hug and coax her into a soothing breathing pattern before she remembered herself and spun out of Grace's grasp.

"What's happening to me?" Jenny demanded once she felt she'd reached a safe distance.

The earthquake stopped and Grace moved towards Jenny, who immediately stepped backwards, maintaining the space between them. Abbie stayed rooted to her spot on the opposite side of the room, her expression somewhere between apprehension and anticipation.

Grace clasped her hands together as she looked between the sisters. "Shortly after Mr. Crane's death in 1781 the British suffered a major defeat at the Battle of Yorktown, ending the war. Former slaves who had fought for The Crown were abandoned and many were sold back into slavery."

"What does any of this have to do with us, with what's happening to me?" Jenny asked. Her patience was now clearly at its limit.

"Imagine the fear you would have felt as a former slave who fought against the patriots and lost." Grace said, pausing before she continued, "the probability of being returned to your former master was all but certain." She took a tentative step towards Jenny and motioned for Abbie to come closer. "Over the next few months, those fortunate enough to escape capture fled north to New York, the last stronghold for the British, and sought passage aboard their ships. When General Washington demanded the British return the freed slaves to their former masters there was chaos in the streets. Slave traders arrived from the southern colonies looking to recoup their losses. Each night men, women, and children were pulled from their beds and placed back into chains."

"Many fled the city," Grace continued, "seeking sanctuary in Sleepy Hollow until their Certificates of Freedom could be secured."

"You hid them at Frederick's Manor," Abbie said, "you guided Crane and I through a secret passageway when we were trapped inside."

Grace nodded. "The manor and Trinity Church served as sanctuaries to all those in need. When the peace treaty between the Americans and the British was signed, only those who could prove their service to The Crown would retain their freedom and be granted passage aboard the ships leaving the colonies. My husband, Joseph, and I devised a plan to assist as many former slaves as possible. We received word that a small committee of British and American representatives would meet at Fraunces Tavern to assemble a list of Black loyalists and their families. Joseph travelled to the city to visit a family friend employed as a barkeep at the tavern. They used a clever distraction to slip enchanted parchment, torn from my Book of Shadows, between the sheets of the registry used to record the ships passenger lists. I was then able to magically add the names of everyone under my care, no matter their status during the war, saving hundreds of lives from the cruelty of slavery."

A dull, chiming sound filled the air, drawing everyone's attention towards the entryway. A pink grandfather clock stood near the front door. Jenny was certain that it wasn't there when she'd first entered the dollhouse, and upon closer inspection saw that the clock's face had no hands.

Grace frowned as she studied the clock's face. "We are out of time. I must get you home." she said while looking pointedly at Jenny.

"Wait," Abbie said, "how are we connected to all of this?" she asked.

Grace swept by her and stood before the front door. She glanced at the clock again before continuing her story, her voice carrying a sense of urgency that wasn't there before. "My husband and I earned God's favor for our service to others in need at great personal risk. As my descendants, you both possess God's grace, made manifest in Abigail as a Witness and in you, Jennifer, as a witch."

Jenny stared blankly at Grace before she opened her mouth to speak. "This isn't real...this is a trick. I've never performed magic."

"I speak the truth," Grace replied. "When you were a child, your mother bound your powers on Earth, which adheres to the laws of nature. The magic you were born with is available to you here, in Purgatory, because it exists in the supernatural realm."

"Mom's a witch and she knew about all of this?" Abbie sighed, finally finding her voice.

"What kind of mother abandons her daughters and leaves them defenseless?" Jenny asked.

"One who was trying to protect her children," Grace replied. "She thought she could keep you from your fate."

Jenny opened her mouth to respond but the chiming of the grandfather clock resumed, loud and insistent.

"Our time here has ended," Grace said as she moved towards the front door and placed her hand on the frame. The portal appeared again but this time led to the woods that surrounded Sleepy Hollow.

"The spell to unbind your powers is written on the back of the parchment torn from my Book of Shadows. Find it, and your mother can restore your magic," Grace said to Jenny before turning towards Abbie. "Mr. Crane's arrogance and pride has put him in a bind. Upon your return to Sleepy Hollow you must dig deep to sever the roots of fear and doubt that lay between you. Have faith in your bond. At its foundation lies the strongest weapon the world has ever known."

Grace nudged the sisters forward and, with one final glance back, they stepped through the portal and back to Sleepy Hollow.

* * *

**A/N:** I've used actual historical events as the inspiration for this story! Use the links below to learn more. You'll have to replace the '*' with '.' in the links below. This website won't let me post links.

Want to learn more about African Americans during the Revolutionary War? Check out this article on George Washington's runaway slave: www*pbs*org/wnet/african-americans-many-rivers-to-cross/history/george-washingtons-runaway-slave-harry/

What list was being assembled at the Fraunces Tavern? It's a real historical document, and you can learn more here: www*pbs*org/wgbh/aia/part2/2h58*html

What happened to the Black loyalists that left America with the British at the end of the war? Read more here: www*newyorker*com/magazine/2006/05/08/goodbye-columbus


	5. Chapter 5: Lost and Found

The ground squished beneath Abbie's boots as she took her first tentative steps in the woods surrounding Sleepy rained a few days before she and Crane had set out for Purgatory, but the thick canopy above her prevented the sunlight from drying the earth beneath her feet. "I've never been more excited to get mud on my shoes until now," she said to Jenny, fully expecting her sister to utter a snide remark about her neat freak tendencies.

It never came.

Abbie whirled around, looking for Jenny, only to find that she was alone in the woods. "Jenny!" she screamed, desperately hoping she'd spot her by a tree.

Grace said that Jenny would be coming back, that it wasn't her time to die.

"Please don't take her from me too," Abbie prayed to a God she hoped was listening.

In her wild search for Jenny she'd managed to wander back to her car. Chatter on the SHPD radio could be heard through the cracked windows. Some campers heard gunshots near Abbie's current location. Dispatch was requesting the nearest officer check out the scene. She yanked the driver's side door open just as Luke's voice reported that he was in the area and would check out the report.

The tears in her eyes blurred Abbie's vision as she fumbled for her keys, absently registering the make and model of the overturned truck. Luke continued to report the details of the scene, and Abbie felt her heart stop. A woman matching Jenny's description was seriously injured, and needed immediate medical attention.

Suddenly the world was moving too fast, or she was moving too slow. She finally managed to stick her key in the ignition and sped off towards the scene of the accident.

* * *

A small gathering of onlookers had gathered near the police barricade. Abbie barely came to a stop before she put her Jeep in park and hopped out of the vehicle. A quick flash of her badge cleared most of the voyeurs from her path. She shoved the rest aside, ignoring their loud objections as she ducked under the police tape and made her way over to Jenny's truck. She had just spotted the flashing lights of an ambulance when two large hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.

"Jesus Abbie, I've been trying to reach you." Luke said, his voice full of concern.

Abbie caught the quirk of his eyebrows as he spotted the mud on her boots and noted her disheveled appearance.

"Jenny...I heard...on the radio—" Abbie began.

"She's fine," Luke interrupted. "It took her about five minutes to call me an asshole, so she's a little banged up. I'm sure she'll be back to her two minute limit in no time," Luke said loudly as he nodded to a group of passing fireman.

Abbie didn't have time for this. She needed to find Jenny. "Luke, which hospital are they taking her to?"

"Westchester Medical. It was touch and go for a while there...she was out cold with a really nasty head wound," he said, pulling Abbie over to the side of the road. He glanced around to make sure no one was listening before continuing in a whisper. "When I pulled her out of the truck she woke up and started screaming for you. She said you were stuck in Purgatory and that you had to get to Crane...I barely got her to shut up before the paramedics arrived..."

Abbie rolled her eyes and prepared herself for what was sure to be his next question.

"...I thought you were supposed to be monitoring her...is she off her medication?"

A flash of heat surged through Abbie's body. She was about to issue a biting reply when she remembered Grace's final message. "Crane...what did Jenny say about Crane? "

"What?" Luke said, shaking his head in confusion. "Look, there's a lot of weird shit going on around here, Abbie, and it all started when your English 'friend' showed up."

Abbie drew herself to her full height and made direct eye contact with Luke. "What. Did. Jenny. Say?"

"I don't know," Luke stuttered, "it was all crazy talk. Something about white trees and Crane buried alive. She said some woman named Grace showed her as she left Purgatory."

Abbie turned and ran back to her car. She opened the trunk and grabbed the spare shovel she kept with her emergency supplies. Heavy footsteps behind her announced Luke's arrival.

"Abbie, what the hell is going on?" Luke asked, "are you in some sort of trouble? Is someone after you?"

"You can say that," Abbie responded wryly as she shut the trunk.

"Let me help you."

Abbie stopped momentarily and took a long look at Luke. He was a good man, the settle down and get married type. Three kids, a dog, and a white picket fence were his dream. He'd told her so as he held her close in his bed one lazy Sunday morning.

Abbie froze. In her experience marriages failed and parents abandoned their children. She couldn't be the woman he was looking for, so she applied to FBI. It was her way of setting him free.

Luke called her out on her bullshit, sparking the awkwardness between them. Crane's arrival and her increasingly complicated relationship with him fanned the flames.

They would never get back together. She knew that now. But Luke was her friend once, and Abbie realized she would need all the friends she could get in order to win this war. "Grab the shovel out of the trunk of your car," she said, "and meet me back here. Hurry."

* * *

Four white trees stood before them.

"What is this place?" Luke gasped beside her. The uncertainty in his voice made both of them wonder if the question was truly meant for Abbie.

On the short ride over he'd peppered her with questions about the unexplained cases Irving had assigned her to, Crane's appointment as a "Consultant" to the force, and Jenny's recent rantings. But he visibly paled and went silent when Abbie started talking about the secret war between good and evil in Sleepy Hollow.

"This is where my nightmares started." she said, clutching the shovel in her hand while struggling to breathe.

This place had haunted her dreams for thirteen years, ripping her from sleep with a raw throat and drenched in sweat. Luke belonged to a small group of people who had heard her screaming in the night, which had grown to include Jenny and, more recently, Crane.

She pushed the fear bubbling inside of her down as she scanned the area. A patch of disturbed earth grabbed her attention. She hurried over, and began to dig. Luke fell in line beside her, attacking the ground with military precision.

Hours later, the plain pine box that had once been Jeremy's prison became visible. Ichabod's screams pierced the air as they struggled to remove the last layers of dirt from the coffin. Luke used his pocket knife to cut through the vines binding Crane's arms and legs and helped him crawl out of the shallow grave.

Abbie fell to the ground, covered in dirt and sweat, but too exhausted and elated to care. She had just started to offer a silent prayer of thanks when two large arms wrapped around her and pulled her into an embrace.

Ichabod held her close, great sobs wracking his body as he whispered words of apology and gratitude to her. Abbie rested her head against his chest and before Luke, God, and the four white trees, finally allowed herself to cry.

She wept for her lost childhood, her neglectful parents, and her abandonment. She cried for her reckless teenaged years, when she desperately hoped that someone, anyone would save her from herself. She wept for Sheriff Corbin and wished she could've had one last conversation with her mentor.

Ichabod's grip tightened, and he vowed to never betray her trust again. Abbie was still angry with him, but felt her heart shift from the sadness of her past as her mind wandered to the present. She'd found her way back to Jenny, and while their relationship wasn't perfect, she was happy to have her acerbic and slightly unhinged sister back in her life.

Crane's presence, while initially jarring made her look at every aspect of modern life through new eyes. She felt at home in his arms, and started to feel like together, they could win this war.


	6. Chapter 6: Balance

Jenny sat on the bed and stared at the clock on the wall. The paramedics had brought her to the hospital hours ago, and she was ready to go home. She guessed that meant heading back to Abbie's place since her truck was totaled.

A full thirty seconds went by before she stood up and started pacing again. The doctor was insisting that she rest, explaining in patient, dull tones that her injury was serious. It was a minor miracle that she'd never had a concussion before, given her line of "work", but she felt fine.

"That's the danger of head trauma, Miss Mills," Dr. Koh said while scribbling undecipherable notes in Jenny's chart. "Sometimes patients feel fine even when the brain has suffered a traumatic injury. Once your sister gets here I'll explain to her that it's in your best interest to stay overnight for observation."

"I can make my own decisions." Jenny growled through her teeth. She was tired of being treated like a toddler, and this room reminded her of old cell at Tarrytown Psychiatric. The cleaning staff even used the same disinfectant.

"These documents say otherwise," Dr. Koh said, waving a thick folder which surely contained Jenny's past psych evals and the court order granting Abbie conservatorship over her.

"Look," the doctor continued, "we have to make sure that you haven't been seriously injured, and your sister's a cop. I doubt she'll allow you to leave the hospital after the trauma you've suffered. So sit back and relax. The sooner we get through the night, the sooner you can get out of here." Dr. Koh finished her notes and grabbed Jenny's bagged clothing as she left the room.

Jenny followed her to the door and watched as the doctor dropped her clothing off at the observation station. She'd been a frequent guest of Westchester Medical Center over the years, and was familiar with most of the Harper, warden of the night shift, was a particular thorn in her side during her last visit. She caught Jenny's eyes watching her as she shoved the bag into the deepest cabinet behind the desk and shut it with a definitive snap. She locked the drawer and made sure Jenny saw her place the key in the breast pocket of her navy blue scrubs, smiling with a false politeness that was clearly meant as a threat.

Jenny leaned against the doorframe and smirked as she monitored Nurse Harper's movements. "Amateurs," she muttered to herself and rolled her eyes. She wasn't above escaping in nothing but the thin hospital gown on her back, but her favorite hoodie was in that bag, and Harper had just issued a challenge.

"You have greater worries than fooling with that woman." a voice said from behind her. She turned to find Grace standing by the window.

"Oh really...and what would they be?" Jenny deadpanned as she resumed her watch of the nurse's station. She didn't want to think about the memories she'd regained in Purgatory or the look of pity she saw in Luke's eyes while she was screaming for Abbie.

"Despite your show of indifference, Jennifer, I know there are questions you want answered."Grace said as she settled herself into the overstuffed chair beside the hospital bed. She conjured an embroidery hoop out of the air with a complicated flick of her wrist, before continuing, "I thought we could talk while we wait for Abigail to arrive."

"You can't be serious," Jenny hissed, "if someone comes in here and sees me talking to an empty chair I'll get a one way ticket back to the psych ward, and I am never going back there."

She returned to the bed and turned on the tv, hoping the noise would cover her conversation with Grace. "And thank you for telling me that Abbie and I would be separated when we returned from Purgatory. You could have kept me from embarrassing myself."

Grace stopped her needlework, laying it in her lap before her gaze shifted back to Jenny and lingered. "You are not your mother."

Jenny toyed with the frayed edges of her hospital gown and swallowed the lump in her throat she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She couldn't stop the flow of images that were tucked away in the deepest corners of her mind, accessed so infrequently that they'd decayed to brief flashes of sight, sound and emotions - of being held tightly to a woman's chest as she swayed to the music in church, the same woman braiding her hair before school, applying a gentle kiss to her forehead while "I love you" was whispered in her ear.

"What I wish to say," Grace continued, leaning forward to catch Jenny's eyes, "is that you are so much stronger, and she loved you and your sister more than you know."

"Get out."

"Jennifer—"

"What kind of mother abandons her children? Leaves them alone to face a monster she knew was coming for them?"

"Evil has made you its vessel on multiple occasions, whispering unforgivable thoughts in your ear and yet you have defeated it every time. Haven't you ever wondered why Moloch and his forces are so determined to possess your soul?" Grace said.

Jenny looked away. She'd been at the lowest point in her life the last time Ancitif had possessed her, aged out of the foster care system and drifting from place to place, struggling to survive on her own. Corbin exorcised the demon and took her in, trained her and involved her in his investigation into Sleepy Hollow's mysterious past.

She felt Grace's hand on her cheek, gently turning her head so they were face to face.

"Jennifer," Grace said, "you are a witch. Blessed with God's grace. Moloch and his forces seek to usurp your abilities by any means necessary in order to tilt the balance of power in their favor."

"Balance?" the question fell out of Jenny's mouth before she could stop herself.

"In nature there exist many dualities, male and female, the sun and the moon, life and death. Witches draw their power from the elements, and must use them in the service of good or evil."

"So I have to decide whether I'm a white witch or into dark magic?" Jenny scoffed.

"There is noinherentgoodness in the light nor evil in darkness. They are simply two halves of a whole. What matters is the intent with which magic is performed, to help, or to harm," Grace said.

"Jenny?" Abbie's voice called from the door, interrupting the conversation.

Jenny turned to find Abbie hovering in the doorway, dirt streaked across her face and dried mud covering her boots. Her slumped shoulders and tentative tone unnerved Jenny but, after a brief nod to Grace, Abbie rushed over to the bed and pulled her into a tight hug, her grip increasing with each repeated whisper of "thank God."

Jenny surprised herself with how tightly she clung to Abbie, but was soon gasping for breath. "I can't breathe," she said with a small laugh, relieved when she saw some of the light return to Abbie's eyes.

"Are you ok?" they each asked each other in unison.

"Where's Crane?" Jenny asked. It was odd to see Abbie without her constant companion. "Did you tell him about his wife?" Jenny couldn't help the sarcasm that crept into her tone, and made no attempt to reign it in.

"He's in the waiting room, they said 'family only' after visiting hours." Abbie replied. She hesitated before continuing, "I'll tell him when I take him home."

"You're not leaving without me," Jenny said. "I want to get out of here."

"The doctor said she wanted to keep you for observation," Abbie said, "she'll be here in a few minutes to review your CT scans."

"Abbie, I'm fine," Jenny said, looking to Grace for help.

Grace nodded."Your sister will make a full recovery. I was sent to help guide her on her journey to regain her powers."

Abbie looked between Grace and Jenny. "What were you telling her when I walked in?" she asked, launching into full interrogation mode.

Jenny rolled her eyes, annoyed that Abbie had changed the subject but Grace merely smiled and gestured towards the empty spot on the bed next to Jenny, indicating that Abbie should sit down.

"We were discussing the delicate balance between the elements before you joined us," Grace said as she resumed her needlework.

"Why was Katrina with Moloch in the woods that day?" Abbie asked.

Jenny leaned forward and waited for Grace to answer, despite her irritation with Abbie for taking over the conversation.

"Katrina Crane was once a good witch who turned her back on her vows to use her powers to help others," Grace said. "She succumbed to Moloch's temptations and helped disrupt the balance between good and evil."

"How?" Jenny asked.

"She concealed the location of Mr. Crane's grave, allowing time for evil, already rampant in an era of enslavement and war, to grow. If Moloch gained access to your powers, Jennifer, the scale would be decidedly tipped in his favor. Your sister and her fellow Witness would be powerless to stop the apocalypse. They need you in order to win this war."

Grace's insistence that Abbie would need her intrigued Jenny. She'd been lost and alone for far too long, but restoring her magic meant visiting her mother, a woman Jenny hadn't seen since she was a child. "Why can't you just break the spell?" Jenny asked, "it's your spellbook. Don't you have it memorized?"

"The spell is bound with a mother's love for her child," Grace said, "ancient magic that can only be undone by her death or by willfully freeing you from her protection using the manumission spell missing from my Book of Shadows.

"It's ok to be afraid," Abbie said, reaching towards Jenny's hand. "It's been years since I last saw her too."

Jenny jerked her hand away and jumped off the bed. She stalked over to the window and looked outside. "I'm not afraid," she said, struggling to believe her own lie.

Abbie followed Jenny to the window and stood just behind her. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here with you now, and I'm never leaving you again."

Jenny exhaled and turned to look at Abbie. "I'll go if you come with me."

Abbie smiled and pulled Jenny into a hug. The moment was broken when Dr. Koh returned, announcing her arrival with a knock on the door.

Jenny glanced at the overstuffed chair but Grace had vanished. She hadn't actually told them how to find the missing pages of her spellbook, but Jenny assumed she would see her again.

"Lieutenant Mills," Dr. Koh said, "I have your sister's scans and lab results. We can go over them before we get her admitted to the hospital for the night."

"She's not staying here," Abbie said. "She's coming home with me."


	7. Chapter 7: We Need to Talk

The short ride home from the hospital was silent. All three occupants of the vehicle were lost in their own thoughts. Ichabod stared out the window, covered in dirt and slumped at an odd angle in his seat.

Jenny pretended not to notice Abbie glancing at her and Crane through the rear-view mirror, presumably watching for signs of distress from either passenger, but more likely ensuring that Jenny didn't start a fight in the car. Abbie made her promise that she'd leave Crane alone as a condition of her release from the hospital, and the best way to honor that agreement was to say nothing at all.

Unfortunately, Jenny didn't have much experience holding her tongue, so her silence did nothing but exacerbate her feelings. She was angry with Crane. His recklessness and blind devotion to his wife led them to their current situation. She hated herself for not protesting his ill-formed plan harder, and furious that the mere thought of visiting her mother caused her so much fear.

She jumped out of the car as soon as Abbie pulled into the driveway and rushed to her room, throwing herself down on her bed. She heard Abbie and Ichabod come inside a few moments later, and listened to their conversation through her open bedroom door.

Abbie was insisting that Ichabod use her bathroom to shower first, presumably shoving the overnight duffle he kept in her car into his hands.

The "Thank you, Miss Mills," he mumbled were the first words Jenny heard him speak since she watched him leave the archives with Abbie and Parrish at the start of this ill-fated mission.

Jenny got up to check on Abbie as soon as she heard Crane start his shower.

She found her sister busying herself in the living room, neatly stacking pillows from the sofa in a corner before pulling out the bed contained within. It was a new addition to the house, purchased for nights like this, when Abbie was too exhausted to drive out to the cabin. Jenny would often offer to drive Ichabod home on such nights, but both Witnesses would politely refuse. She knew what they were unwilling or unable to say—that their physical proximity to each other was a source of comfort while the world fell apart—but kept these thoughts to herself...for now.

"Did you tell him?" Jenny said as she moved to help her sister put a fitted sheet on the sofa bed.

"Tell him what?" Abbie asked, smoothing the same corner section of the sheet over and over again, not meeting her sister's eyes.

Jenny dipped down to Abbie's eye level, a move she normally reserved to irritate her older sister, and studied her closely. She saw the same look that must have been plastered on her own face just a few minutes before, a strange mixture of anger and fear.

"You know what," Jenny hissed, "that his wife is working with Moloch, orshe tried to kill us as kids...take your pick!"

Abbie closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with both hands but otherwise made no attempt to respond as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Jenny decided they could all use a drink, and headed to the kitchen to grab three mugs and the bottle of rum Abbie kept stashed for Crane. She walked back into the living room and found Abbie in the same spot where she left her. It was hard to believe that just an hour ago, Abbie was the one reassuring her that everything would be alright. She didn't expect to have to repay the favor so soon, but if they were ever going to have a chance at winning this war, they'd have to learn how to recover from their losses. She sat next to Abbie, knowing she'd have to proceed with caution.

"Look," Jenny said as she placed the mugs on the coffee table in front of them, "you told me you wanted answers, so we followed Crane's stupid plan and you walked into Purgatory. We learned the truth about mom, our family, and what happened to us that day in the woods." She poured three drinks, downing hers first before she continued, "The answers we found, the secrets we uncovered, are ugly and scary, but you can't run away and pretend nothing happened. Not this time."

"I thought we moved past that," Abbie started.

"We have," Jenny cut her off as she poured herself another drink, "or at least we're getting further away." She toyed with the mug in her hands and waited for Abbie to say or do something, anything besides stare at the floor.

"He was broken when we found him," Abbie whispered, "he lost everything—"

"Yeah? Well, so have we." Jenny said before she threw back her drink in a single gulp, then slammed the empty mug on the coffee table. Crane must have finished his shower, because the water stopped running and she could hear him moving around in Abbie's room.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Jenny," Abbie said, the heat returning to her voice. "I'm just as angry as you are. This mission was built on a lie. He re-drew that map, didn't tell me, and look where it got us." she said as she flung her arms out, indicating the empty space in front of her. "We're supposed to be partners in this...how am I supposed to trust him again?"

Jenny stood and picked up her empty mug. She started to head towards the kitchen, but turned back to Abbie just before she stepped out of the living room. "You've always told him the truth, no matter how painful it may be. Start there. The rest will fall into place."

She left Abbie in the living room, put her empty mug in the dishwasher and walked back to her room, passing Crane in the hallway. Her curt nod of acknowledgement was the only pleasantry she could muster at the moment. All she wanted was a hot shower and sleep. She didn't want to think about the memories she regained in Purgatory, or how hopeless she felt about the mission laid in front of her. She started to close her bedroom door, but not before she heard Abbie's voice, clear and strong, as she spoke to Crane:

"Ichabod, we need to talk…"


	8. Chapter 8: An Offer and a Warning

**A/N:** I apologize for the major delay. There several false starts and a few wrong turns with this chapter, but I'm finally back on track! I WILL finish this story. Additional notes are posted below.

* * *

Abbie coughed as a cloud of dust filled the air. It probably wasn't a good idea to handle ancient scrolls and rotting books so roughly, but it felt good to slam them against the table. She felt like she was accomplishing _something_.

They hadn't made much progress locating Grace's spell since returning from Purgatory three weeks ago. Abbie wanted to question Grace for clues but hadn't seen her ancestor since the night she brought Jenny home from the hospital.

"Are you ill, Lieutenant?" Ichabod asked from behind her laptop.

Abbie caught his eyes roaming her form, checking for any signs of distress.

"I'm fine, Crane," Abbie responded, as she used her fingertips to massage the ache in her temple.

They'd spent the last three weeks like this, trapped in a holding pattern. Each Witness nursing wounds that had been ripped raw and would never completely heal.

At times, Abbie regretted telling Crane the truth about Katrina. Their conversation went as well as it could—she made allegations against his wife with the memories of a child and he renounced her accusations with his typical dramatic flair, appalled at the suggestion Katrina was anything but the beloved wife he'd perfectly preserved in his memory.

Depression kicked in two weeks ago, after Jenny, listed all of Katrina's half-truths, lies of omission, and general transgressions. Abbie thought Jenny's outburst was harsh, and told her sister so.

"We're trying to prevent the apocalypse, Abbie. We don't have time to wait for Crane to complete the stages of grief," Jenny said before she stormed out of the archives. That was two weeks ago, and she'd rarely been seen since.

"Lieutenant…"

Abbie turned towards the sound of Crane's voice—and bumped into his chest. They quickly separated, and Abbie wondered how he'd managed to cross the room unnoticed before an awkward silence fell between them.

"Lieutenant, I—"

"Shoot, Crane—"

They spoke in unison. Ichabod blinked rapidly. His brow furrowed as he tilted his head to the side and mouthed the word "shoot" before returning to his aristocratic posture.

"Another modern colloquialism I presume," he sighed.

"It means 'go ahead' as in, 'tell me what you were going to say'," Abbie said as she leaned against the table.

"Lieutenant, I believe your apple-book has provided a clue to the whereabouts of Grace's spell."

Abbie smiled. It wasn't the rant on modern language she was expecting, but she'd take his gaffe on laptops. "Show me," she said as they walked over to her macbook on the table.

"After the war, a delegation of American and British officials convened at Fraunces Tavern, just as Grace informed you and Miss Jenny in Purgatory," Ichabod said. "They compiled a list of former slaves who could prove their service to The Crown during the war. Only these individuals and their family members would be permitted to leave America with the British, heading for Nova Scotia, England, and the Caribbean."

"Hmm.." Abbie murmured as she read the text on the screen. "But is there anything here that tells us if this list survived, and how to find the damn thing?"

Ichabod smiled, and Abbie saw a flash of his former self.

"Fortune smiles upon us, Lieutenant, for both copies have survived the centuries."

"It's about time fortune did something for us. Where are they located?"

"A scholar, by the name of Wikipedia, has professed the American copy is housed at the National Archives in our nation's new capitol, Washington, DC, and the British copy is located in Surrey, just outside of London."

Abbie sighed and shook her head. "We don't have time to travel to both locations."

Ichabod cleared his throat. "Perhaps Miss Jenny might be of assistance?"

He and Jenny were still on shaky ground since she stormed out of the archives. They communicated through Abbie, mostly in a one way direction—from Crane to Jenny—as she spent most of her time away from the Witnesses.

She would leave before dawn and return late in the evening, hair frazzled and attitude shot, offering only a perfunctory grunt before heading to her room and shutting the door.

Abbie nodded. "Maybe she can put her friends in low places to work for us," she said as she pulled out her phone to text her sister.

Jenny's reply arrived a few seconds later: "On it."

Short and direct. Abbie exhaled and rolled her eyes before she placed her phone on the table. She caught Ichabod watching her. He was just as concerned about Jenny's recent behavior as she was.

"Did Miss Jenny provide any details concerning her whereabouts?" he asked.

"No," Abbie said. She didn't know what to make of her sister's latest antics. Before Purgatory, Abbie would have said they were finally making progress in their relationship. Now, she wasn't so sure. "I'll check in with Luke," she said as she picked up her phone. "Maybe he's seen her around."

Luke had offered to monitor Jenny's movements through his small network of informants, but the updates, including his latest message, were always the same—'Jenny was spotted arriving or departing from Adam's Antiquities. No further information could be obtained'.

Abbie rolled her eyes and made a mental note to tell Luke to lean on his network a little harder. Her sister was a highly skilled criminal, and would know when she was being followed.

"Lieutenant," Ichabod started, interrupting Abbie's thoughts. "I believe we have reached our physical limitations for the day. Perhaps we should retire from our search for the evening and return to our mission after we acquire a modicum of rest."

The ache in Abbie's temple throbbed, and she couldn't go for more than a few minutes without stifling a yawn. "You're right, Crane. Let's call it a night."

* * *

They decided to stay at Abbie's place, since she was too tired to drive to the cabin. Ichabod busied himself with the sofa-bed, while Abbie alternated between checking her phone and glancing out of the windows, looking for Jenny.

"She will return, Lieutenant," Ichabod said as he moved to join Abbie at the window, stopping just behind her.

"Sometimes, I'm not so sure."

"Miss Jenny considers you her home," he said. "She will always return to you, no matter what evil strives to sever your bond. Of that, I'm sure."

Abbie turned and looked at Crane. She'd missed the easy nature of their relationship over the past three weeks. He'd always known the exact words that would make her feel better, that would put her back on track.

A strange expression passed over his face. He was harder to read these days—his mood generally alternated between melancholy and deep depression—but Abbie recognized his hesitation.

"What is it?" she asked.

"There was some distressing information in Wikipedia's research," he said. "After the war, Franklin and John Adams attended peace negotiations in Paris. On the last day, an article was added to the treaty requiring all property seized by the British be returned to their American owners...Lieutenant, this included slaves...It goes on to say General Washington contracted an army officer to hunt down his former slaves who escaped their bondage and fled to the British lines seeking their own freedom."

"You knew Washington owned slaves," Abbie said.

Ichabod's gaze fell to the floor. "It was my deepest desire that he would see the irony of holding human beings as property while we were fighting for the ideals of liberty and freedom...apparently, that did not come to pass. Miss Mills, I find this difficult to reconcile."

"It's 2014, and America still hasn't fully digested or discussed the ramifications of slavery," Abbie said. The pain in her temple throbbed, and there was still no sign of Jenny. "Get some rest. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"Good night, Miss Mills," he said with a slight bow.

"Night, Crane," Abbie said as she walked back to her bedroom, passing Jenny's on her way. The door was cracked. Abbie pushed it aside, looked around the empty room, and sighed. The bed was made with military precision. If it weren't for the slight misalignment of her boots by the foot of the bed, Abbie would have thought Jenny had never made it home last night.

Abbie shut Jenny's bedroom door and continued down the hall to her own room, heading straight for her bathroom. She stifled a yawn as she turned on the light and stood in front of her mirror, studying her reflection. Bags were starting to form under her eyes. "You need to take better care of yourself, Mills," she chuckled to herself as she reached for her toothbrush, knocking the container of toothpaste off the counter in the process. "Damn it!"

Her hands balled into fists as she closed her eyes and bowed her head. She paused for a moment before she leaned over and picked up her toothpaste. She stood back up, and glanced in the mirror.

Katrina Crane smiled back at her.

"Ichabod!" Abbie screamed, trying to back out of the bathroom but was instead pulled forward, into the mirror. Its surface rippled as she crossed the plane and a rush of cool water washed over her.

The sensation ended as abruptly as it began, and Abbie's eyes widened as she surveyed her new surroundings.

She was standing in the center of Trinity Church. Moonlight illuminated the stained glass windows and rows of candles lined both sides of the sanctuary, casting the chapel in a soft glow. "No...no, not again," she whispered as her pulse raced and her throat started to close.

"Hello, Miss Mills," Katrina greeted from behind.

Abbie turned to face her. "What is this place?" she asked as she scanned the church for an exit.

"Fear not, Miss Mills, I mean you no harm. This is not Purgatory."

Abbie stopped searching for an escape route and looked into Katrina's eyes. "You tried to trap me in Purgatory in this very church, remember?"

"I thought you'd be more comfortable for our little chat in familiar surroundings," Katrina said with a smile that did not reach her eyes. She sat in a pew and motioned for Abbie to join her.

Abbie chuckled, but stayed rooted to her spot. "So...Abraham's not much of a conversationalist? You'll have to forgive me if I don't feel like chatting at the moment."

Katrina's grin widened, and Abbie felt a chill in the air.

"You don't have to talk, Miss Mills. You simply have to listen."

"And why would I believe anything you have to say?" Abbie asked as she shook her head. "You've done nothing but lie, to your coven, to Crane—

"And how is my husband?" Katrina interrupted. "Did he believe the fallacies you undoubtedly told him upon your return from Purgatory?"

Abbie felt her heart stop. Her re-integrated memories from 'that day' in the woods were still raw, and the fear associated with them threatened to crack her carefully construed exterior. She swallowed the lump in her throat, leaned towards Katrina, and stared directly into her pale, green eyes. "What do you want?" she demanded. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Merely to provide you with an offer, or a warning. The choice is yours."

"I don't want whatever you and Moloch are selling Katrina, so just get to the warning."

"You must make a choice," Katrina insisted. "Therefore, you will listen to the options I will lay before you."

"My answer will be the same—"

"What is your deepest desire, Miss Mills? A happy childhood? A home, filled with your loved ones, all of them safe and whole? Join us, and you shall have this and more."

Abbie's chest tightened and the lump in her throat returned. Katrina was methodically picking through all of her psychological defenses. She needed to gain control of the situation. "You sold your soul and turned your back on your vows to use your powers for the greater good. Why?"

Katrina's smile vanished, and the temperature in the church plummeted. "The world does not exist in simple terms of black and white, Miss Mills. There is significant area among the grey. The things we do for love often defy logic."

"What did Moloch promise you?"

Katrina paused, but quickly recovered. "The grace you possess is a gift from God. Its magic has untold powers. Join us, and I will teach you how to access and harness your true talents."

"My answer is still no."

"Then I will offer you this warning. Your quest to unbind your sister's magic will end in misery and despair. You will bear witness to her death as Moloch's forces wash over the Earth. The grace within her shall be mine, and you will spend eternity re-living the moment Jennifer Mills met her end. Consider the options before you carefully, Miss Mills. You have 24 hours to decide."

Abbie opened her mouth to respond, but was thrown backwards before she could speak. Her view of the church diminished, and a wave of cold water rushed over her. She could hear Ichabod screaming for help and footsteps running down the hall as the back of her head hit the bathroom floor, plunging her into darkness.

* * *

**Additional A/Ns:**

This chapter was the most difficult to write. Making Ichabod sound like Ichabod was difficult, but determining Katrina's motivations was almost impossible. I couldn't write that last scene until I knew where she was coming from (to be revealed over the next few chapters).

Three additional notes:

1. The tavern where the Americans and the British met to assemble the Book of Negroes was actually called Fraunces Tavern, after its proprietor. I had it as the Queen's Head Tavern in chapter 4. This has been corrected. You can learn more about the tavern here: frauncestavernmuseum*org/history-and-education/history-of-fraunces-tavern/

2. The Nova Scotia Archives has digitized the British copy of the Book of Negroes (Black Loyalists). You can view it online here: novascotia*ca/archives/virtual/africanns/BN*asp

3. This site keeps filtering out URLs listed above, so I entered a "*" where there should be periods. Replace them, and you should be able to visit the listed websites.


End file.
